


Soft bro fun

by MisanthropyMuse



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Bets, Bi-Curiosity, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, No Homo Bahorel, One Night Stands, Pansexual Character, Porn with Feelings, Sexuality Crisis, Smut, like literally almost completely just porn, with a side of building feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 15:23:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14855315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisanthropyMuse/pseuds/MisanthropyMuse
Summary: Based on this post http://2k31.tumblr.com/post/118496026216 .Feuilly takes up the challenge to respond to a weird ad on a dating app. He ends up winning far more than he wagered.





	Soft bro fun

Grantaire doesn't even say hello as he walks into the Musain and drags a chair at a table before sitting on it, a mischievous grin on his face.

«Got a new challenge for you,» he says, looking right at Courfeyrac. He takes out his phone, unlocks it and places it on the table, turning it around for the other to read. It's an ad on a dating website.

«Hi there,» Courfeyrac starts reading out loud. «I'm a 28yo bi curious guy, looking for some soft bro fun, nothing too serious, no sex, just some casual fun with a bro. Sexual orientation doesn't matter as long as you don't look too gay. Must be 25-35. No time wasters.»

He raises his eyes at Grantaire and raises his eyebrows. «What would be the challenge, exactly?»

«Fucking this guy, obviously,» he replies, still grinning.

Courfeyrac snorts, rolling his eyes. «Oh, that's easy.» He shrugs. «I will...» he starts, but Feuilly steps in, putting a hand on his shoulder. They all hush, looking at him and expecting some kind of reprimand for playing with people's lives like that.

Instead, Feuilly grins. «I’ll do it,» he says, making everyone's jaw drop.

«You serious?» Grantaire asks, a bit alarmed, as some of the others chuckle.

«No, I'm casual bro fun,» he laughs. «Plus, Courfeyrac looks too gay for this. And there are no pics, he could be ugly and let's be real, you would be able to fuck someone ugly,» he adds and none of the others can disagree.

He takes the phone and hits the 'reply' button, writing a quick message to ask him for his number and address.

«Hey that's my account!» Grantaire protests, trying to get his phone back.

«I know, don't worry. I wrote that I'm using a friend's account because I don't usually do this kind of things. He'll probably feel more at ease thinking that I don't sleep around a lot with other men,» he says, hitting the send button and giving Grantaire his phone.

«That counts as lying, Feu,» Joly laughs from the other side of the table.

«It's for a good cause,» he shrugs, but he can't hold back a grin.

«Were have you hidden fun Feuilly for all this time?» Courfeyrac asks and he punches him lightly on the shoulder.

«Oh, shut up. You're just jealous I'm the one fucking him out of his closet,» he snaps, and Courfeyrac looks mortally offended.

«Okay, let's place bets. 20 euros he doesn't even touch you,» he says, slamming a hand on the table.

«20 euros he sucks me off,» Feuilly replies, narrowing his eyes.

«20 euros he doesn't kiss you,» Bossuet steps in while Joly playfully elbows him.

«20 euros he lets me finger him.»

«He replied,» Grantaire interrupts them, giving Feuilly his phone.

_''Hi dude, I'm glad someone here knows what I'm talking about. I'm at 32, rue de Clichy, my number's 06 23 81 56 10. Can you come over right now?''_

He grins, adding his number to his contact list and writing him that he'll be there in half an hour.

«I can't believe you're getting laid while I'm not,» Courfeyrac pouts.

«You're always getting laid while everyone else's not, let him have fun for once,» Grantaire reprimands him.

«Thank you, R,» Feuilly smiles as he gets up and gathers his stuff to leave. «Well, see you guys tomorrow. I'll let you know how much you owe me,» he grins and walks away waving them goodbye.

Early spring nights in Paris are cold, but his excitement keeps him warm as he walks towards the closest metro station.

The last time he did something like this he was just out of a short but difficult relationship, and strangers on the internet are the best way to blow off some steam without any sort of commitment. Most times you barely know their name or even remember their face when you leave the day after.

Sure, doing it for a challenge is a first for him, and even if he doesn't feel completely at ease with playing with someone like that, he knows he won't make a habit out of it. He can let loose for once and try to not feel guilty about it afterwards. It’s Saturday night, after all.

He texts the man when he gets off the bus and starts looking for his house. It takes him ten minutes to finally find the right number and then he texts him again as he stands before the set of doorbells and looks at the unfamiliar names written next to each of them. The door buzzes open as soon as he hits 'send' and he tentatively walks in. Another text tells him to go to the fourth floor, so he heads for the lift.

When the doors open, he slowly paces along the empty hall until he sees a door left ajar. He stops before it and breathes deeply a couple of times before gathering up the courage to knock, causing the door to slightly widen.

«Come in!» a voice exclaims from the inside and Feuilly obeys, opening the door and walking in. He closes it behind him and turns around just in time to see his host walk into the small living room he's standing in.

«Oh shit,» he whispers under his breath, barely keeping himself from gaping at the gorgeous man who's awkwardly smiling at him and who luckily doesn't hear him.

«Hey, welcome. You can put your jacket on the rack over there,» he says, pointing at somewhere next to the door and walking into the kitchen.

When Feuilly joins him he's opening two bottles of beer. He'd like to tell him he's not there for conversation, he'd like to push him onto the counter and fuck him senselessly for hours, but he's suddenly unable to talk or do anything that isn't staring at him.

«I'm Bahorel,» the man says, handing him one of the bottles, that adorable awkward smile still curling his lips.

«Feuilly,» the other somehow replies before turning around and downing half of his beer in one sip.

«How old are you?» Bahorel asks, walking past him towards the couch.

«27,» he says, following him.

«Mh, I thought you'd be older,» Bahorel says, taking a sip from his bottle before sitting down. Feuilly can't help but notice the way his lips shine when wet, and how his thick neck moves when he swallows and he feels incredibly dumb all of a sudden.

«Why?» he manages to ask before sitting next to him. Their legs brush together and Bahorel flinches away.

«No particular reason,» he shrugs and he doesn't look as casual as he wishes to be, but Feuilly doesn't care. He definitely wants things to go faster and conversation doesn't help. Courfeyrac would definitely laugh at his thirst, but it's not like he's doing it on purpose.

«So,» he clears his throat. «What is exactly your definition of fun?» he asks, trying to grin in somewhat flirtatious way. Bahorel grins back, blushing and runs a hand through his thick black hair.

«Well, we could maybe start with watching some porn and jerk off together?» he suggests, not sounding very sure of himself. Feuilly almost wants to ask him if he's joking, but he remembers what was written in the ad and tries to play it cool.

«We could start with that, yes,» he replies, hoping the other will understand what he actually means.

He finishes his beer as Bahorel stands up to fumble with his DVD player. He sees him leaf through a binder full of CDs and hesitate between a few pages. He turns a couple of times to subtly look at Feuilly.

Finally, he settles on one and puts it on. He takes the remote and heads for the couch again, just as Feuilly is slowly starting to palm himself through his jeans.

This is easily the most embarrassing sexual thing he's ever done in his life, he decides as Bahorel lowers his jeans and boxers and settles down on the couch, slowly starting to stroke himself while he stares at the screen.

«So, what are you?» Bahorel hesitantly asks slowing down his pace.  
«A man,» Feuilly replies and grins as he sees him roll his eyes. «I'm pansexual,» he says before the other could ask again.  
Bahorel turns around, finally taking his eyes off of the porn on the screen, and looks at Feuilly with a small frown.  
«What does that mean?» he asks, sounding slightly alarmed.   
«It means that I can be attracted to people of all genders,» Feuilly explains, glad to have avoided jokes about kitchen tools. Bahorel is still confused.  
«Oh, wow. But isn't it a bit like being bisexual?» he says, still frowning but now from concentration. Feuilly smiles.  
«The difference is very subtle and uncertain, as people can experience their sexual orientation in different ways. For most people, pansexuals can be attracted to non-binary and agender people as well as male and female. Some of us, like me, don't notice gender at all. We acknowledge it, of course, but it doesn't play a part in sexual attraction.»  
«How? I mean, attraction is connected to appearance, at least when you don' t know someone,» Bahorel says. He's stopped stroking himself and his hand is abandoned around his cock as he stares at Feuilly and tries to understand.  
There's a small crease between his eyes and his lips are slightly pouted.  
«It mostly is, but it isn't connected to gender. And gender isn't necessary related to appearance anyway. Let's just say it's a matter of chemistry, if it clicks, it clicks, regardless of who the other person is,» he tries to explain and Bahorel seems a bit less confused when he's finished.  
«That's... weird, honestly. I don't really see how you can. But I guess it's beautiful, seeing people as just people and not caring for labels,» he says, fumbling with his words and staring at the floor. Feuilly is sure to hear a hint of bitterness in his words that sends a rush of fondness to warm his chest.  
He puts a hand on his thigh and tries to smile encouragingly, but he can't find words that wouldn't be awkward, so he just pats him, gently, and takes away his hand.  
Bahorel clears his throat as he watches his hand leave his skin, and bites his lower lip. He blinks a couple of times and opens his mouth, as if to say something he doesn't have the courage to.  
«Should I put it back?» Feuilly asks, understanding that he's still reticent to ask for what he wants.  
Bahorel nods and looks at the television screen as Feuilly places a hand on his thigh, his long fingers almost touching the dark hair at the base of his cock.

Only now that he's staring directly at it he finally notices how big Bahorel's dick is, and his mouth is suddenly very dry. He's eager to touch it and stroke it and maybe suck it, so hard that he'll make him forget about the awfully sexist straight porn going on before them.

«Can I touch you?» he asks. Bahorel nods again and Feuilly can clearly hear his breath hitch as he wraps a hand around his cock and slowly strokes him.

He glances at his parted lips and it's harder than he thought to keep himself from kissing him. He tries to focus on his dick, but it doesn't really help his self control as he feels it harden under his palm, as he explores his length and literally aches to do more.

«You're still dressed,» Bahorel points out, his voice low and rough. Feuilly chuckles, softly, and lets go of his dick to undo his own jeans. He feels Bahorel's eyes on him as he lowers his pants and takes out his half hard dick. He turns around as he starts stroking himself and meets Bahorel's eyes.

He notices that what at first looked like plain brown contains specks of amber and gold. They look like two dravite gemstones that come alive as he bats his long eyelashes. He's hypnotised for a second and he has to bite his lips to keep himself from gaping.

Bahorel shakily exhales and suddenly is eyes are filled with fear as he stares at Feuilly's lips. Taken aback, Feuilly can do anything bur turn towards the television again, even if the porn makes him more uneasy that aroused.

He hears him take a few deep breaths as the man in the movie starts spanking the woman as he fucks her ass. Her moans are so fake he wonders how can anyone be aroused by that, but when he looks at Bahorel he sees that it's definitely working on him.

Even though it's pretty sad to see, it's also much a better view than the fake anal sex, so Feuilly tries to focus on him as subtly as he can in order to have something to masturbate to and let this night end as soon as possible.

«You know, I can see you're staring,» Bahorel suddenly says, the faint hint of a smile on his lips. He shoots Feuilly a look and they both blush.

«You don't like this, do you?» he asks, turning around with a sort of apologetic little smile.

Feuilly lowers his eyes and thinks about lying, but his head is shaking before he can find the right words. «I'm sorry, it's not really my thing,» he says, and he hopes Bahorel will understand he's not only talking about the porn.

«Yeah I know, it's awful,» he says, shaking his head, and Feuilly is as surprised as he's disappointed.

«You seemed to be into it.» His voice sounds questioning.

Bahorel blushes and huffs a nervous laugh, lowering his eyes. «I wasn't...I was thinking about something else, actually. Related to that but something else entirely,» he mumbles.

Some sort of hope starts rising again in Feuilly's chest.

«Was it something you want to make happen?» he asks, shifting a bit closer to him. Bahorel sighs and nods.

«Was it something I can help you with?»

Bahorel makes a little noise, like a soft whine from the back of his throat, and he nods again.

«Tell me what you want, Bahorel. You don't have to be ashamed,» Feuilly whispers, his voice warm and low, slowly sliding a hand on his thigh.

Bahorel swallows and sighs and bites his lips. «I want to fuck you,» he exhales, closing his eyes. «I want to fuck your ass and spank you and,» he stops as the man on the screen starts yelling insults at the woman. «And I want to turn this fucking thing off,» he says, reaching for the remote and stopping the video.

Feuilly laughs softly. «Good choice. What were you saying?»

Bahorel finally turns towards him, looking at his face. «Can you kiss me?» he asks, and Feuilly smiles, placing a hand on his cheek and getting slowly closer, giving him the time to change his mind. He doesn't and so they kiss.

It's short and tentative and chaste, and Bahorel is flushed when Feuilly pulls away.

«Was it...?» Feuilly starts asking, but Bahorel stops him by putting a finger on his lips. He nods.

«Take two,» he whispers, and leans in to kiss him, his hand on the other's neck.

Feuilly parts his lips and lets Bahorel experiment with his tongue. His hesitation seems to wear off pretty quickly, and soon he's pushing Feuilly into the backrest and licking into his mouth, getting bolder and hungrier and wilder with every passing second.

His nails dig into Feuilly's neck as he bites his lips, and Feuilly moans into his mouth. At the sound, Bahorel pulls away with a start and looks at him, frowning slightly.

«Was it pain?» he asks.

«Shit no, not at all,» laughs Feuilly and they kiss again.

Feuilly is patient, he keeps his hands down and lets Bahorel do all the work, afraid that touching him could scare him away again. He waits for orders, however long they could take to come.

He's clearly surprised when Bahorel takes full charge of everything and climbs on his lap, kicking his jeans away and taking off his shirt before going down to kiss his jaw. His lips brush against Feuilly's short beard and he laughs softly while shaking his head.

«This is weird, okay,» he says, but he goes on, carefully biting the smooth skin beneath his ears.

The further down he goes, the less gentle he becomes, and Feuilly can't keep himself from moaning.

When he does, after an especially deep bite just above his collarbone, he apologises and Bahorel shakes his head again, blushing lightly.

«Don't. It's... good,» he chuckles. «Weird, but good.» He does it again and Feuilly groans, a bit more freely.

«Take your shirt off,» Bahorel orders, pulling away and for a moment his eyes are dark and wild. «Please,» he adds, and they shift back to their softer shade.

«You don't have to be gentle with me. I can do rough,» Feuilly says with a grin as he obeys. His pullover ruffles his curly red hair, and Bahorel is fast to run a hand through them. He stops at the back of his head and pulls them to expose his neck before going down to suck on it.

He'll leave marks, but Feuilly can't bring himself to complain. After all, he needs some proof of his conquest.

Bahorel is an expert lover, and he's clearly gaining confidence with every moan that escapes Feuilly's lips, but some things still kind of startle him. When he slides a hand down Feuilly's chest, for a second he looks for something to grab and halts when he doesn't find it. Feuilly kisses his cheek to distract him, and as they kiss again he slowly guides his hand around his pecks and to his nipples.

«It's the same,» he whispers on his lips, and Bahorel nods before reaching down to suck on one of his nipples. Feuilly shudders and moans, instinctively grabbing Bahorel's head, his fingers intertwined with his thick long hair.

«God,» he whimpers, leaning his head against the backrest, and he can feel Bahorel's lips curl up in a smile against his skin, but it doesn’t last long. He lets one of his hands carelessly fall on Feuilly’s lap and he startles as his wrist brushes against Feuilly’s hard cock.

He looks at it and lets out a soft whimper, filled with worry but also desire.

Feuilly gently caresses his cheek and grins when Bahorel looks up at him. «It doesn’t bite. And it doesn’t pee rainbows if you touch it,» he jokes.

 Bahorel laughs softly. «I know, I’m sorry.»

«Don’t be. I understand. Feeling an attraction that sidesteps the norm can be scary at first, I know that very well. But you don’t have to be scared now. No one’s judging you here.»

Bahorel nods, not entirely convinced but a bit less worried, and tries painfully slowly to wrap his thick fingers around the base of Feuilly’s cock. Then, even slower, he slides up and down a few times, his grasp loose and soft, like a caress. Feuilly groans, trying to keep himself from rolling his eyes but being betrayed by his hips, that unconsciously rock slightly forward, pushing into Bahorel’s hand.

Bahorel chuckles, throws him an apologetic look and fastens his grip, starting to move faster.

«Good,» Feuilly moans. «I know you can stroke a cock, come on,» he grins, and Bahorel tries again. He goes up and tightens a little bit more below the head. A few strokes more and he even dares to brush his thumb on the tip.

Feuilly’s breath hitches. «Good boy,» he murmurs absent-mindedly, smiling as Bahorel laugh.

Once he verified that it works just as his own, Bahorel finally starts to build up some confidence around the other’s cock. He tries varying the pace and the weight of his touch, he strokes, brushes, caresses and even uses both of his hands at some point.

As soon as he sees him confident enough, Feuilly grasps the side of his neck and pulls him into a kiss, and he’s glad to feel him properly respond. Bahorel leans forward, moves on his lap and his cock hits Feuilly’s stomach. Feuilly grabs it instinctively and starts jerking him off, making him moan.

«Hey,» Bahorel whispers on his lips a moment after biting them. «This is good.»

Feuilly snorts lightly. «I’m glad,» he murmurs before flicking his tongue into his mouth and taking a full tour, still holding his neck.

When they part, they’re both panting. «Do you mind...» Bahorel hesitates. Feuilly tilts his head to the side and looks at him.

«Can we move to the bedroom?» he finally asks, biting his lips and looking intently at the ground.

«Thought you’d never ask,» Feuilly replies with a grin.

Bahorel pulls him up from the couch and drags him across the living room into a slightly smaller room. He sits on the edge of the bed and Feuilly hesitates for a moment before dropping on his knees and placing a kiss on the soft inside of the other’s thigh. He grins when he hears his breath hitch, but this time he doesn’t stop to ask before going on.

He slowly kisses his way up to the base of his cock, then licks a straight trail to the head, where he finally opens his mouth and takes him in. He slides down keeping his tongue flat against the dick. He only gets halfway down before feeling the tip hit the back of his throat and pulling back abruptly, startled.

«Something’s wrong?» Bahorel asks, clearly enjoying himself too much to notice what happened.

«Oh, no,» Feuilly replies. «Don’t mind me,» he says, shaking his head a few times before going back to blowing him with way less haste than before. He tries to go further down, relaxing his throat as much as he can without gagging, but there still a significant portion of it he can’t reach.

He briefly thinks about how envious Courfeyrac will be when he’ll know, before coming back to his senses and starting to suck hard, the tip still well down his mouth.

Bahorel moans, tightening his muscles, and Feuilly decides he’s worth the effort. He steadies his cock with a hand and tries to slide down more, inch after inch, swallowing repeatedly and breathing hard through his nose.

Bahorel is holding his breath when Feuilly finally gives up, though he can still comfortably fit an entire hand in the remaining space.

«Wow,» he hears him let out as he swallows one last time and then starts to go slightly up and down, while still stroking the base of the cock with his hand and kneading his balls with the other.

«Shit, good God,» Bahorel lets out, running his hand through Feuilly’s hair without pulling them.

Feuilly would smile if he hadn’t his mouth full of his cock, but he sucks him hard to make him know he appreciates.

He would happily go on to make him come, but the thought of being fucked by him is making him way too aroused to be ignored.

So, he pulls back, licking him thoroughly and sucking hard on his tip before standing up, cracking his neck and licking his lips.

Bahorel laughs. «That…was awesome. I...congrats?» he hesitates.

Feuilly chuckles while straddling his lap. «Thank you,» he whispers before kissing him.

He sits on his cock and makes it slide between his butt cheeks. He shivers when the wet tip brushes against his arsehole and bites Bahorel’s lower lip.

«You wan…?» he starts and Feuilly cuts him off with another kiss.

«Yeah, I want you to fuck the hell out of me,» he whispers against his ear. He sucks on his lobe and thrusts again against his cock. Bahorel is blushing but he doesn’t hesitate.

He slowly caresses Feuilly’s side down to his ass and gently slaps one of his cheeks. Then he slides down to touch his hole, tickles it tentatively and grins when Feuilly stops breathing.

«Go in,» he orders, and Bahorel obeys, sticking a dry forefinger in his ass. Feuilly closes his eyes and clenches his jaw, taking him in. When Bahorel slides out, he pushes him down on the bed and crawls forward on him to reach the head of the bed, taking care of hitting him in the face with his cock. Bahorel laughs turning on his stomach and jumping on Feuilly from behind. His cock pushes against his ass and they both shiver.

Bahorel reaches for the bedside table and grabs a bottle of lube from the last drawer. He pours it profusely on his fingers and carefully sticks one of them up Feuilly’s butt. He thrusts inside him until he feels him loosen, then he adds another and starts scissoring gently. Feuilly is feeling full already, his thick fingers working their magic inside of him, and the thought of having his even bigger cock in him is making him shiver with anticipation.

Bahorel gently runs his free hand along the curve of his back. His dick is resting against the back of Feuilly’s thighs and he can feel it stiffen as his hands move down to his cheeks. Bahorel leans on him as he lubes up his cock, biting his shoulders.

«Ready for me?» he whispers at his ear.

«When you are,» Feuilly replies, parting his legs and swinging his ass against Bahorel’s hips.

Bahorel is clearly well aware of his size, because he takes it painfully slow. He slides the tip in and waits for Feuilly to make him some sign before going on, inch after inch. Feuilly groans into the pillows, holding on the sheets and parting his legs a bit more as Bahorel goes deeper.

«Oh, God,» Feuilly sighs when he dares to tighten his ass and feels him so hard and huge inside him. «Oh, shit,» he repeats again and again, while thrusting his hips up to get closer to Bahorel.

He has never felt so full and open before and it’s easily the most amazing feeling ever.

«Tell me when to stop,» Bahorel says and Feuilly shakes his head. «Go on, for God’s sake. I can take all you’ve got,» he pants out and he knows he sounds desperate but, well, he is. Bahorel obeys, trailing kisses on his spine to soothe him, he pushes as forward as he can, until he hits a spot that makes Feuilly screech.

«Yes, there,» he pants, breathless, and Bahorel hits it again and again, taking all his time in between to slide halfway out and slam him back into the mattress. Feuilly is aching and shivering and sweating, cursing and moaning loudly every time.

«You feel so good,» Bahorel whispers against his ear before starting to speed up his pace. «So… fucking...right,» he pants as he plunges into him. His voice is rough and low, almost a growl that reverberates deeply inside Feuilly. His big hands grasp him firmly, burning into the softness of his hips. The noises they make, the heat, the friction, everything about that moment is perfect, and Feuilly just can’t take it. He’s rambling, his mind completely void of any rational thought, and he feels like he’s falling into pieces all over the bed. He feels like Bahorel’s breaking him and taking him back to life at the same time. He doesn’t even need to be touched to come, and he shoots hard all over the bed after the umpteenth lunge.

He collapses on the pillow, breathless, mindless. Bahorel goes on for a few minutes more before coming hard inside him, filling him up as he pulls out. He looks satisfied at the mess he’s made of him before lying at his side, trying to regain the ability to form coherent thoughts.

It takes them a good quarter of an hour to be able to speak again, and all Feuilly can say is a low, hoarse «Wow.»

«Yeah,» Bahorel agrees. He laughs softly, exhaling deeply as he runs a hand through his hair.

They’re both completely worn out, and they don’t think even for one second of moving from the bed.

«Will you be here tomorrow morning?» Bahorel asks, his eyelids fluttering as they struggle to stay open. Feuilly nods. Where else would he want to go after that?

«See you in the morning,» he mumbles and finally gives in to sleep.

 

Feuilly is still half-asleep when he hears Bahorel shuffling next to him. His eyes flutter open and he has to blink a couple of times at the bright light crawling through the shutters, filling the room with a pale pink glow. The first thing he notices is Bahorel's hand gently tracing patterns on his skin. It tingles, but he stays as still as possible and watches in silence as Bahorel slowly slides closer without even noticing. His lips seem to be curling up at the corners, but his brow is slightly frowned and his eyes, though warm, are out of focus.

Feuilly nibbles at his lower lip as he tries to hold back a smile, but he can't help but exhale a half-laughter when Bahorel suddenly snaps back into reality, barely further than an inch from his face. He blinks away his thoughts and, when he looks directly into Feuilly's eyes, his pupils visibly widen as he smiles.

«Hey,» Feuilly whispers.

«Hey to you too,» Bahorel replies and leans into a kiss that could have seemed casual if it wasn’t for his stupid sappy smile.

Feuilly was expecting shame and coldness, after the previous night, but apparently Bahorel is happy and unbothered by his presence. Feuilly himself is surprisingly content. In his admittedly little experience, you usually don’t wake up to your one-night stand watching you the way Bahorel was.

«I’ll let you know that my butt is still preciously hurting from last night,» Feuilly jokes to lighten the mood and tries hard not to dwell on how endearing Bahorel’s self-satisfied grin is.

«Oh, that’s too bad,» Bahorel takes him by surprise. «I’ll have to find some other way to please you then,» he adds and the glimmer of mischief in his eyes makes Feuilly lose a heartbeat.

Bahorel pushes him on his bed and starts trailing kisses all over his chest, and Feuilly admires how he looks unfazed by his body hair. He’s making great strides from being too scared to admit he wanted to fuck him to teasing him before giving him head.

He bites on his nipples as he starts to palm him, his hands gentle but firm. Feuilly just leans back on the pillows and watches him carefully, both to spot any sign of uneasiness and to imprint the view well into his mind.

Bahorel is clearly nervous, but he compensate with enthusiasm. His eyes constantly dart up and down from Feuilly’s face to his cock, but his grip is steady and his movements confident. After all he must have received a hundred blowjobs before, he must have learned something from them.

As to confirm Feuilly’s thoughts, he pulls down his foreskin and slowly licks around the head of his cock before sucking hard on it.

When he looks up as Feuilly moans, his eyes are wide and dark, like a panther ready to jump on his prey. Just seeing him like that makes Feuilly’s cock throb.

«Please,» exhales Feuilly. Bahorel is more than happy to comply, eagerly taking him into his mouth and sucking fast for a few moments before slowing down. After a while, he starts rotating slightly around him as he pulls up, slow and loose, and then going down full force until Feuilly hits the back of his throat.

«Oh God, yes,» Feuilly pants out, his hips arching forward. Bahorel grins to himself and goes on, and it doesn’t take long until Feuilly breathlessly mutters that he’s about to come and grabs Bahorel’s hair to pull him up, spilling out onto his chest instead of his face.

«Thank you,» Bahorel laughs, hiking up to kiss Feuilly’s flushed face. His lips are dark red and glistening when Feuilly kisses them.

«Didn’t want to ruin your first blowjob,» he says as soon as he has enough breath to.

Bahorel doesn’t reply right away. He lies down on his back first, his head resting on Feuilly’s shoulder, staring at the ceiling. Feuilly watches him for a long moment and he’s about to ask if everything’s okay when Bahorel exhales and turns half-way around to throw a shy smile at him.

«I’m glad you were my first,» he says and, fuck, he shouldn’t be allowed to make Feuilly’s heart flutter like that.

It’s so pathetic, catching feelings for a cute one-night stand. He should have never taken up on his friends’ challenge. In all honesty, he hadn’t thought of the bet since he got into that apartment and he is only now realising that he won almost all of them.

But 60 euros is nothing compared to what he’ll remember as one of the best hook ups of his life.

Sure, proving his friends wrong doubles the fun, but it wouldn’t be fair at all to say that Bahorel didn’t make it worth it on its own.

«Hey, what time is it?» Bahorel asks after a while they’ve been lying in silence.

Feuilly checks his watch. «Half past eleven.»

«Oh, wow. I hadn’t slept in this late in ages,» Bahorel huffs with a little laughter.

«Me neither. It feels good,» Feuilly says, stretching his muscles with a pleased expression.

They’re silent again, just relaxing and enjoying each other’s warmth. They let the minutes pass and it’s weird for both of them to be this comfortable around a stranger. Mornings after usually include heavy silences and awkwardly trying to find small talk subjects that don’t include any kind of personal questions.

But this one feels too easy for small talk. Too familiar, almost domestic.

Feuilly slowly turns to nuzzle Bahorel’s neck. His scent is inebriating, sharp and musky and inexplicably attractive. He places a few kisses along his jaw and below his ears, where he bites a little. He flicks his tongue to taste him, and he feels him shiver.

«Hey,» Bahorel softly calls him, pulling away far enough to look into his eyes.

«Shower?» Feuilly asks with a small grin. Bahorel nods, content, getting up and dragging Feuilly out of bed into a kiss. They stumble their way to the bathroom and almost hit the shower door as they slip inside.

Bahorel turns the shower on and closes the panel before turning to see Feuilly casually leaning against the tiles as the water flows on him. He lets his eyes slide down his body and the way he nibbles at his lower lip gives away his thoughts almost too easily.

They meet eyes, mirroring smiles, and in one step Bahorel’s on Feuilly again, touching instead of staring, kissing instead of thinking.

Open mouth and lazy tongue, slow and warm, with the hot water running over their faces. Bahorel wraps an arm around his waist to pull him closer and fill every gap between their bodies.

Feuilly reaches up to run his fingers through Bahorel’s hair and he notices for the first time how much taller than him Bahorel is. He’d never thought it could be such a turn on for him, but apparently everything about the man makes him tick in just the right way.

He props himself up on his toes so that their cocks are closer and starts to rub them together. Bahorel’s much bigger than him in that area as well, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He lifts him up, holding him with both his arms under his ass, so that their tips are touching, and Feuilly wraps his legs around his hips and tries to stick to the wall as much as possible, considering how slippery the water is making it.

«Finger me,» he asks with a weak tone, more begging than ordering, and Bahorel immediately complies, sliding two wet fingers inside of him. Feuilly tightens his hole around them and starts riding them as he continues to stroke both of them at the same time.

«You’re so hot like this,» Bahorel whispers, so softly his voice almost gets covered by the water, and Feuilly smiles, kissing him just as gently.

Feuilly comes first, again, groaning and shuddering in Bahorel’s arms, and as soon as he’s able to, he drops on his knees to finish Bahorel off with his mouth. He won’t just say it, but the feeling of having him inside just drives him insane, whatever part of his body he might be in. The other seems to enjoy it, judging by how he holds his head and moans loudly while he fucks his face.

«I could never get tired of getting you off,» Feuilly says when he’s standing again, still dizzy from the previous orgasm.

Bahorel smiles in response, but it lasts for half a second before faltering. Before Feuilly can say anything, he turns around to start washing himself, so Feuilly does the same. Despite the sudden silence, they wash each other’s back and hair and make out a little more before getting out of the shower, but it’s clear how things feel way colder than before.

Bahorel wraps himself in a bathrobe before handing Feuilly a couple of clean towels and heading out of the bathroom without even looking at him. Feuilly considers following him and asking what’s wrong for a moment, but then he shakes his head to try and convince himself that he doesn’t care that much. He’s about to go anyway, and they’ll probably never see each other again, so it’s not his problem, he decides.

He walks into the living room and picks his clothes up from the ground where he left them the night before. Bahorel is still in his bedroom by the time Feuilly’s fully dressed and ready to go, so he peeks out his door to at least say goodbye, because it’s the polite thing to do.

He finds him sitting on his bed in his underwear, combing his hair while staring blankly at the wall. He tries clearing his throat to get his attention, but he fails.

«Hey, I’m...gonna go now,» he says, hesitantly. Bahorel startles and looks at him. He nods.

«So...it was nice to…well...» Feuilly clears his throat again. Bahorel doesn’t react. He doesn’t seem to have heard him at all. «Bye,» Feuilly just says in the end, shrugging and finally walking away without looking back.

He double checks he’s got all his belongings as he walks up to the door. He opens it and waits a few seconds on the threshold, giving Bahorel the last chance to do something, but nothing happens, so he just sighs and heads out, closing the door behind him.

He feels bitter, and he knows he shouldn’t, but he tries to convince himself that it was just a disappointing end to an awesome night. He didn’t expect any grand gesture or declaration, but just a goodbye would have at least been nice.

He gets out his phone as soon as he’s out of the building. He has two missed calls from Courfeyrac and more than a hundred unread messages. They’re all from his friends checking up on him and speculating on what might have happened. He laughs as he read them while he waits for the bus to take him home.

_movies_ chez moi _in two hours, i’ll tell you everything. bring food and booze_ he texts the group, and smiles when he receives a lot of thumbs up in response.

_Courf and bossuet bring your dirty money, I just won 60 euros,_ he adds, before putting his phone away and getting on the bus.

He needs another shower, a change of clothes, a good meal and his group of friends to shake off the bitterness and go back to his usual snarky self.

Bahorel will be remember as nothing more than a good fuck, he decides, and he can almost believe himself.

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this story in my wip for two years now and I recently picked it up again to reconsider if it was worth continuing. Apparently my brain thought it was, cause I could finally polish the first part of it and convince myself to post it, though incomplete.  
> I have some ideas for how the story continues (very predictably, I warn you) and might actually continue it, if I can be bothered to ♥


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